


Fast Food Negotiation

by dearestones (Devin_Trinidad)



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Brian needs reader's help to deal with Alex, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Takes place pre-series, because Alex is dramatic, characters may or may not abuse french fries, this fic makes it obvious that Marble Hornets takes place somewhere in the United States
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29265045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devin_Trinidad/pseuds/dearestones
Summary: Brian tries to convince you to help out with a student film. You're not too sure if you want to do it.
Relationships: Brian Thomas/Main Character, Brian Thomas/Reader
Kudos: 7





	Fast Food Negotiation

“Brian,” you mutter just a tad too loudly for a mother to look at you in disapproval. You apologize quickly to the woman before glancing back at your friend, the grin on his face looking way too smug for you to handle. “Brian, seriously, why?”

“Why not?” He answers smoothly. He leans his back agains the cheap plastic chairs that the fast food place offers before he bites into a classic, greasy burger. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Bright eyes look at you with a mixture of mischief and desperation. If you had a will that was not as strong as a bull, you would have surely fallen for his little performance. However, that was all it was: a performance.

“I’m not falling for that,” you muttered as you take a sip of some soda. “Seriously, working for Kralie? The guy’s creative, I’ll give him that, but when I saw the script…” You make a wishy washy motion with your hand, your exasperated look on your face further elaborating your feelings on the matter. 

Brian, fortunately, agrees. 

“Look, Alex just wants to have an extra just for a few scenes. Nothing too big, you know?” 

You quirk a brow and shake your head. “No, I don’t know.”

The brunet sighs a little as he dips a french friend into his little packet of ketchup, his lighthearted expression falling into one that is of contemplative seriousness. It’s cute, you think. A smile is wonderful, but having been subjected to the expression for so long, you always long for the time when his face relaxes and you see something that has an iota of truthfulness than the facade that he displays for the rest of the public.

It makes you feel special.

Well, most of the time.

Now, you know he’s thinking of something that will convince you to join Kralie’s pet project. You have nothing against him, but you’ve seen some of his past projects, have even worked with him on a few assignments, but you knew the guy was a bit of an idealistic perfectionist who didn’t always know how to get his vision across. 

And… his script…

It really wasn’t up to snuff. 

As you wait for Brian to continue the conversation, you begin biting into your food. It’s nothing special, all fast food is same in the end, but it’s particularly savory and warm when in the presence with Brian. In fact, just spending time with him has always proved to be a positive benefit for you, regardless if it applied to food or studying for exams. Finally, when it seems like you’re going to finish your meal, Brian speaks up.

“Hmm? I couldn’t quite catch that?”

“Look, how about this—“ He raises a steady hand when you’re about to interrupt. “You join in, but you also act as some sort of editor. You can like… ask Alex if you can change up the script, add a little life to the scenes…” He waggles his eyebrows up and down. 

Despite yourself, you laugh. 

At this rate, with his charm and your willingness to be enraptured by his wiles, you were definitely going to end up starring in Kralie’s project… What was it again? Concrete Giraffes? 

“And what makes you think he’ll let me touch his precious script? He doesn’t look like he’ll take criticism.”

Brian winks at you, the sight of which had a few butterflies tickle the inside of your stomach. 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle it.”

“Really.” You say more like a statement than a question. 

“Yup.”

Well, if he looks that confident, then you might as well believe him. 

You don’t tell him that, though, as you stuff your face with the last of your food to ignore his knowing smile. 


End file.
